The Missing Mother
by GoldenMiniJ-17
Summary: The family at Downton get some late night vistors, one's which shake up the whole house... and Tom and Sybil had no idea that they were coming... This isn't a sad story, the title is misleading! a Why No Mrs Branson? story (This is my new tag created on Tumblr) :D


**Helloo!**

**This isnt a sad story, the title may be misleading!**

**This...has...been...such...a...long...slog! **

**This bit alone is 15 pages, possibly the longest thing i have ever written .. AND THERE'S MORE! So to make it a little bit easier on you, and me, i've decided to put it into 2 maybe 3 parts. **

**I started writing this after 3-04 and then didn't finish it because, well you know what happened next :( BUT! On tumblr, that picture of Tom, Sybil and the baby - the portrait one - gave me the kick up the arse to finish this. I've always wondered why Mrs Branson wasn't in or even mentioned in the last few episodes. Surely she would have written or been the teeniest bit sad that her daughter in law died!? Obviously not according to Fellowes. -.- **

**ANYHOO! Do enjoy :D**

**for all the people who commented on that photo, I've forgotten now who did, wondering why Mrs Branson wasn't in it. **

**Oh and, as far as I'm concerned, 3-05 didnt happen :D**

* * *

Someone pounded upon the door after ringing the doorbell twice; she was getting impatient. She harrumphed loudly, pretty much throwing her suitcase on the floor before going to knock on the door again.

"Calm down, would ya?" another sighed before crossing her arms over her chest.

A young man then opened it then as she had a raised fist to the door.

"Oh, erm, can I help you?" Alfred answered a little terrified of the two women stood at the door. The one of the right was young, whilst the other was probably her senior but she looked quite young too. They both had blonde hair poking out from underneath their hats and the younger girls had curls flowing down to her waist.

"Is Sy-I mean – Lady Sybil here?" the older woman asked.

"Erm, yes, b-but I don't think she's expecting any visitors." Alfred stuttered, trying not to stare at the younger girl. She wasn't half bad looking, he thought.

The older woman scoffed a laugh before saying, "Oh trust me, she'll want to see us,"

"But-"

"Alfred? Who is it?" Lady Mary's voice echoed from the hallway. She came to the door smiling widely at the visitors before frowning in confusion.

"Mrs Branson!" Mary gasped in surprise. "How are you? Sybil didn't tell us that you were coming; or Tom for that matter,"

"That's because they don't know dear," she answered, winking and placing a finger to her lips in 'hush'.

Mary let them in, ushering them into the main hall before being embraced by her sister's mother in law. Both ladies smiled; it had been a long time. Alfred stood speechless at the door before closing it, smiling at the younger girl. She winked at him before moving on, embracing Mary. Mrs Branson didn't quite know what to expect with her daughter in laws sisters. She had a façade all ready; flexible aristocrats couldn't strike twice in the same family, surely? It wasn't used, after a while. As she got to know them better, Mrs Branson began to embrace them more as family.

"You haven't changed a bit, you know? You look happier, though; Sybil did tell us that you got married." Mrs Branson commented, smiling fondly at her.

"Thank you and yes, I did get married – To Matthew,"

"-to the young lad you've been pining for, of course," They said simultaneously. They all chuckled before Mrs Branson gestured to the young girl next to her, pulling off her gloves while speaking.

"You remember my youngest Brigit?"

Brigit smiled and Mary greeted her; of course she remembered Brigit; she was the youngest and by far the prettiest of the Branson girls. The others were pretty too, they all were really, but Mary could tell that she could turn a man's head without much effort…like Alfred, she thought; she had noticed Alfred's gaze completely lost on Brigit. She resembled her mother the most and was the only girl to inherit her mothers blond hair.

"Alfred? Would you be able to take Mrs Branson's and Brigit's luggage for them please?" Mary asked, trying to get Alfred to stop gawping like a fish at Brigit. Both of the young ones watched each other, trying hard not to catch each others direct gaze but failing, causing Brigit to blush fiercely. She handed Alfred her small suitcase,

"Thank you Alfred,"

"That's alright Miss Brigit," he smiled, causing her again to blush.

Mary sighed and Mrs Branson rolled her eyes, both becoming suddenly distracted by voices floating through from the dining room into the hall. They came closer and the voices more recognisable.

"Dinner must be over. Come, everyone will be all together and you can say hello," Mary smiled.

Both of the Branson women looked very sheepish and exchanged a look of embarrassment between one another.

"I'm afraid we don't have clothes like yours, Mary. We'll look terribly out of place." Brigit said sullenly.

Mary sighed but smiled, shaking her head.

"Come now, don't be silly, you know as well as I you won't look out of place. And if anyone says a word, you have just been travelling. I'm sure that they can forgive you that. Besides, Tom refused to change the first time they were here so it won't be much of a shock for Granny."

Mary didn't really mind what they were wearing; in fact she quite liked it. Their clothes were practical but homely; Brigit wore a plain grey skirt with a flowery blouse that was most probably all of her sisters before it became hers and Mrs Branson wore almost the same, just her main dress was red, with a mustard-y yellow collar, cuffs and strip down the front. Mary knew that these were probably their best clothes and tried not to look too piteous; she knew that Mrs Branson was a very proud woman. She had made that mistake before. Mary had dared to comment, with a poorly hidden distain; about Mrs Branson's garden…one which she hadn't tended with the greatest of detail since the children came.

"_Not all of us can afford gardeners you know, miss."_

Mary didn't make the same mistake again.

* * *

Opening the door to the drawing room, and catching the attention of everybody in the room, Mary announced their guests, making Sybil almost drop her cup and Tom stand up in shock.

"M-m-Ma? Brigit? What..? When..?" he stuttered. "Oh, sorry," Tom began laughing nervously and hugged his mother and his sister before introducing them. "This is my mother, Margaret and my sister Brigit."

"Hello," they said, Brigit squirming slightly as she felt Lord Grantham staring at them both.

The room went very quiet and an uncomfortable silence crashed down upon them all. Cora, though rather stunned herself, knew that this was

"It's very nice to meet you, at long last," Cora said, standing to shake Mrs Branson's hand. "I'm sorry that we haven't had the opportunity to meet before,"

Mrs Branson was warmed by the greeting though it did spur her to hear the blatant excuse that came from her in-law's mouth. Margaret didn't and couldn't understand why neither of them attended their wedding; she thought it might have something to do with her and her family. She could see what they may have thought; the stereotypical imaginings of her home, dirty and everything crammed into two rooms – her house couldn't be more the opposite and the imaginings of her children's behaviour; she knew that Tom was a bit of an anomaly but her children were well presented, had manners beyond what most had and all of them had some kind of an education. Tom got a scholarship to the grammar school when he was younger – he did so well that his brother got in and so on and so forth. His sisters got the same opportunities with the high school because of their excellence.

Margaret smiled, deciding not to be rude, though the desire was very tempting, "Yes, I know, likewise."

Again, the silent atmosphere returned and Cora glared at her husband to say something. But it was her mother in law to break the silence.

"What did you say your name was dear?"

"Erm, Margaret, Margaret Branson, though my name before marriage was Roquefort."

The Dowager nodded before saying, "You know, my dear, you look very familiar. Have we met before…?"

"No, no we haven't," Mrs Branson said abruptly, blushing slightly and chuckling nervously. The Dowager wasn't convinced.

Mrs Branson turned to her son, "Hello, lad," she smiled. She placed two hands on his face and looked at him fondly. The fondness and love evident on her face and in her eyes was wiped in an instant as her face fell flat and neutral, almost into a frown and a resounding slap echoed around the room. Her expression was one of thunderous anger; the others flinched and gasped apart from Brigit and Sybil – they expected it to happen. Tom clutched his right cheek, releasing a breath that he didn't know he was holding as the pain stung. Shocked eyes stared in bewilderment at his mother who pointed a very intimidating finger at him.

"You! How could you be so…so stupid! I told you! I warned you not to get involved but obviously I know nothing of this world!" She screamed. She went for him again but he took at step back, almost tripping over a lounge stool set out. "When I heard I couldn't believe it! I didn't want to believe it! It couldn't be true, I said, Tom promised his lass' but when I had your poor girl shaking with fear on my doorstep, pleading refuge, it had to be! You stupid boy!"

Mrs Branson threw her arms by her side and could feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She had already felt the grief and the suffering from the fighting; her sister in law coming by pretty much everyday, crying to her when her son – Tom's cousin - was killed. Hadn't he learnt from that?

"For god sake Tom," she sighed.

"Excuse me, but I hardly think that is the appropriate way to deal with this," Lord Grantham interrupted and Brigit winced, taking a step away from her mother.

"Excuse me but he is my son and I shall deal with him the way I see fit! You should be grateful his father isn't alive! Because I tell you, milord, he would have done a lot worse a lot harder!" she snapped back.

"Ma there's no need to-" Tom started.

"Quiet!"

"Look, Mrs Branson, you shouldn't-"

The Dowager Countess stood then, banging her stick on the floor, demanding silence. Brigit felt her mother cry and motioned to Sybil to help her get her out of the room and calm down. Sybil dared not to look at the red splotch glowing on Tom's cheek; the perfect silhouette of his mothers hand.

"Robert, she is right. Tom is her son and she can, as she says, deal with him as she sees fit," The Dowager said, once the door had closed.

"What right has she?" Robert snapped hysterically. "To come into our house and do that?

"She is his mother, she has every right." She answered nonchalantly.

* * *

"Oh, Lord, I've embarrassed you all, I'm ever so sorry," Margaret apologised, taking the hands of her daughter and her daughter in law. Both of them gave small pained looks, the second of Sybil's hands closing over the top, clasping fondly at her stinging hand. The three ladies had moved out of the drawing room into the hall, Mrs Branson sitting upon the small bench near the stairs. Tom had stormed from the room, holding his bruised face; he said that he went upstairs to check upon the baby, but in truth, he went upstairs to hide from his mother.

"No, well I mean, the only person you've embarrassed is Tom really," Sybil sighed. "He does deserve it though,"

"Oh course he does," Mrs Branson spoke, her dignity restoring bit by bit, her voice firming. "Leaving you and the little one like-" she gasped at Sybil; she noticed no baby. "Sybil! Where-?"

"I was wondering when you'd notice, yes, she's here. Your granddaughter is upstairs," she whispered. Sybil could see the tears coming to her mother in laws eyes as she began describing her granddaughter. The tiny tufts of blonde hair, her deep blue eyes and the big smile that she was starting to develop.

"Oh, love, she sounds gorgeous." She smiled through her tears. "Can I go and see her?"

"Yeah, let her take her mind of my idiot brother," Brigit smiled. Sybil smirked and took her mother in laws hand, set on leading her upstairs when she didn't move. Margaret had stayed sitting, furiously glaring at her daughter, who was still smiling, oblivious to the anger she had awakened in her mother.

"Don't talk about him that way Brigit; he's your brother…even if he is an idiot,"

Brigit acquiesced, sighing as she did so. Even so, she really didn't want to; the amount of grief and stress Tom had put them all under was too much for their mother. Brigit had found her many nights just staring into the fireplace and holding her small cross between her fingertips, praying for Tom to…probably just appear in front of them. Mrs Branson remembered the night before Sybil left for here and the night that Tom left them.

...

_There was a fierce knocking at the door, rousing Mrs Branson from her bed and sent her spiralling into a bad mood. Anyone who knew her knew not to wake her. She grumbled all the way to the door, ready to yell and curse at the infernal person who woke when she found her daughter in law, completely bedraggled and wide eyed. _

"_Sybil, love? What's happened? Where's Tom?" she asked as Sybil pushed past her, pacing slightly up and down the small corridor._

"_Shut the door!" she hissed, lunging forward to do it herself. _

"_What on earth has gotten into you dear?" No answer. "Sybil!"_

_Sybil's gaze darted up to her mother in law, who looked upon her now with a motherly kindness and understanding – something that she really didn't deserve at that moment. She had told her son to go away, without a goodbye or any means of contact ever again. Sybil could feel the incoming reprimand weighing down upon her mind. _

"_Oh Ma!" she whimpered, covering her mouth with one hand while with the other, caressing her heavy child. Mrs Branson ushered her gently into the small sitting room, drawing the curtains before setting the fire. They both took seats either side of it and Ma took her hand._

"_Now, tell me from the start,"_

_Sybil couldn't find the words to even begin, let alone tell her the whole story. _

"_Erm, well-"she began and then gasped when something moved outside, knocking over a metal bin. She started to tear up again, "Well, Tom didn't come home tonight…but he left me this,"_

_Ma took the piece of paper, one which was almost completely destroyed. A worried frown became clear on her face._

_We have to go with the plan. Everything's set up. Ask for Roquefort._

"_What does he mean, the plan and what's been set up? Darlin' please, tell me. Oh you have to calm down, dear; the baby won't be liking that," Ma asked, kneeling in front of her as Sybil tears worsened. Her body was shaking and due to the force and fear that she was exerting, her lip was almost bleeding with the abuse of anxious biting. She rubbed Sybil's protruding stomach gently before taking her hand._

"_The plan was that if anything should happen…he should go to Downton and I'll follow him. He's set up boat and train tickets for me under your maiden name; we can't use our own because they'll trace him instantly." Sybil sniffed. She wiped her eyes on the sleeves of her coat before continuing. "I've shut down the flat. The last boat went about an hour ago. He'll probably be on that one. He'll be at Downton by tomorrow night. I'm sorry; there is nothing else that we could do. I leave on the boat tomorrow night so…and I know this is a big ask but-"_

_Ma stood, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. She started pacing while Sybil talked, crossing herself and praying silently over and over again._

"_Do you want me to hide you? Good God in Heaven!" she asked in disbelief. She threw her arms above her head in hysterics, slapping them down by her side. She could feel the anger building up inside her; she knew all along that this girl would bring trouble for them. Tom just couldn't help it! Tom and his headstrong mind couldn't help falling in love with a girl that would encourage his trouble rather than quell it!_

"_Why didn't you stop him?"_

"_Me stop him? Stop him doing what? I don't know why he's in trouble Ma; he doesn't tell me anything about what he does and you know why!" Sybil snapped back, effectively silencing her mother in law. Margaret sighed, she knew it wasn't Sybil's fault…but Tom wasn't there to take her anger. More tears flowing over her cheeks. She pulled out a hanky from her nightgown pocket, wiping her eyes and drying her face before speaking again. She handed another to Sybil. _

"_Of course I'll hide you, dear. You're family," Ma told her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "I know that Tom won't want you wandering the streets,"_

_They stayed still in that position for a while, Ma beginning to rock her slightly from side to side. Sybil chuckled quietly when the baby kicked from beneath her skin, attracting her mother in laws attention. Sybil held her stomach and moved one hand so Ma could feel it also. Both of them smiled slightly and Ma's grew when her grandchild hit her hand twice. It seemed to be a hello. _

"_You know this will be the first one of my grandbabe's that I'll miss being born." She sighed sullenly. "I don't suppose you'll be able to return before the baby's ready?"_

_Sybil shook her head and sighed. They stayed in silence, holding one another's hands and trying their hardest not to cry. _

"_I'll wake up Brigit and we'll make up the mattress in her room. It can be slid under the bed in case…" Ma couldn't say the words that haunted her mind. No doubt tomorrow the search will go out for them. She decided that she would get her own brother to accompany Sybil to the boats, to make sure that she gets on the boat safely. _

_Connor walked through the door again, a small slip of paper in his hand._

"_Did she get on alright?" Margaret asked her brother. He nodded, giving her the paper. _

"_Yeah, she were fine. It was the last one so no-one can go after her. Not until tomorrow at least," he replied._

_Margaret nodded, opening the folded piece of paper. It held a phone number and an address._

"_She said that its details for Downton or something. Why didn't you tell anyone she were a toff?" Connor sighed._

"_It wasn't my secret to tell. You'll keep it wont you?"_

_Connor gave his sister a knowing look and she smiled, kissing his cheek and allowing him to stay for some lunch._

_..._

Sybil opened the door gently to reveal Anna sleeping in the chair. She shook her awake gently; she gasped and startled, stammering incoherently; something about just for a minute but Sybil chuckled.

"Don't worry Anna, she makes me exactly the same," She smiled. "Go up to bed, I'll give you an excuse," Anna nodded, laughing slightly too and left the mother with her baby. Sybil picked her up gently – she was still sleeping – and carried her over to her very excited grandmother.

"Here she is, your little 'grandbaby'," Sybil smiled. "Her name is Merilee." Mrs Branson felt tears flow over her cheeks again, this time they were happy ones and she stroked the red cheek of the dozing babe.

"She is just…she looks like you my darlin," Ma whispered, giving her head a small kiss. Brigit smiled too, waving and making silly faces at her niece. Sybil laughed, trying hard to smother it with her hand. "'Part from the hair, I see the hair is mine,"

Sybil nodded, stroking her daughter's mousy hair. Merilee only stirred slightly, but when a finger began to tickle under her chin, she started to rouse from the rude awakening. Mrs Branson stopped immediately, sighing when the little one fell back to sleep.

"She's asleep!" she whispered through her giggles. "Please don't wake her; it took me and Tom so long to get her to sleep,"

Her sister in law shook her head and flopped into the armchair. She huffed as she fell against the pillows, her still gloved hands rubbing over her face. She yawned, smiling sleepily as she watched her mother hold her niece for the first time. The fatigue of travelling was catching up on her; she expected that her mother would have wilted by now but the awe she found in her grandchild was keeping her going. She found her own eyelids drooping slightly as she heard her mother crooning ot the little girl, a familiar song from her childhood that was no doubt sung to every one of her siblings.

"What song is that?" Sybil asked.

"The Castle of Dromore," she whispered. "It's a very old song, one that was old when it were sung to me,"

Sybil hummed, smiling as she sat on her bed, her head resting against the post. The low tones were floating around the room, entrancing almost everyone in it to sleep.

"Tom sings a song to her, it's a different one." She started to giggle. "She cries when he sings it though. She seems to like this one; I'll have to learn it,"

The other women chuckled.

"Poor lad, where is he anyway?"

"Hiding I expect, I won't see him until later," Sybil murmured.

Mrs Branson moved to sit on the bed, the small bundle in her arms not moving once; Sybil gazed in wonder at how her daughter could still be asleep with all the movement. She is an expert, she thought. How can she do it? She has only held my daughter for 10 minutes?

"How is she not screaming?" Sybil gasped in wonder.

"Do you want to know the secret?

"Yes!"

"There isn't one," her mother in law chuckled. Her smile widened when her face dropped, a hysteric and fearful expression crossing over. "Just practise dear. It'll happen, one day. Look, I can even get my 16 year old daughter to sleep even now,"

Their gazes moved to Brigit, who was snoring lightly in the chair. Her hair had come out in places, some of it falling in front of her eyes. Both shoes had slipped off as she moved, and the lapel of her coat was used as a pillow. They both sniggered, Sybil rubbing her stomach lightly; her scar slightly pulled at her laughter.

"I wanted to ask, since now we're, ha, 'alone'. How was the birth?" Margaret asked, standing to place the sleeping little one back in her crib. She rocked it slightly, letting the momentum keep her swinging softly. She watched as Sybil frowned, a long slow breath coming out of her mouth and her eyes closing. Her hand ghosted over her stomach; she looked like she would cry. Mrs Branson, who regretted the question, moved to her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and kissing her head.

"Oh now don't cry! I'm sorry dear I didn't mean to-"

"No, you didn't do anything, of course you want to know, you're only being concerned." Shuddery breaths escaped Sybil as she spoke, her eyes fairly wide. She began to re-live it, much against her free will. She relished in the comfort of the older woman next to her; she was rubbing her back gently, every so often her hand would brush back her hair.

"I remember what I wanted to give to you," Sybil smiled, forcing her mood to change. She rummaged in the wardrobe, retrieving her gift before returning to her previous position, photographs placed out on the bed.

"Oh, dear!"

"They were taken at Mary and Matthew's wedding," she whispered. She picked up her favourite; the picture with all three of them together. "This was taken a little afterward. We didn't know if we'd see you so we got this done. You needed to see your granddaughter sooner or later,"

Mrs Branson smiled, taking all the pictures in one hand, stroking lovingly over the faces. She was truly touched; she never expected to see these photographs. She was invited to Matthew and Mary's wedding but due to her sister being ill and no-one to look after her, she had to decline.

"Is this all you sisters together? That is a good photograph. I have to ask, why does Edith never smile?"

Sybil giggled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Bless her." Mrs Branson whispered. She noticed again Sybil rubbing her stomach in pain. She patted her hand.

"Sybil-"

A knock came at the door and Sybil yelped, her hand clasping tightly onto Mrs Branson's. It was Tom, very sheepishly poking his head around the door.

"Sorry Mam, but, the others downstairs are wondering if you're going to come back down. They're a little worried about you running off – Love, are you alright?" he asked, closing the door. He knelt in front of his wife, who smiled meekly, taking her hand in his own and sighed. He traced a finger down her cheek before stroking it gently over her stomach.

"Is it giving you grief?"

She shook her head, looking away and sniffing as tears began to fall. Though she had cried in front of him many times, Sybil couldn't bear to do it again. He had seen her in enough pain to last them both a lifetime. Though the trauma and aftershocks still haunted her, the sudden screams in the night and the tears that followed slowly faded and ceased. She wanted to be strong and forget but the small twinges that occurred every time she smiled or laughed reminded her.

She heard Tom tut in pity, his hand cupping her face gently. His eyes held all of the remorse in the world, the blue shine to them dulled slightly. She pulled away after a moment. She couldn't bear the pity any longer.

"We must go down, Mama will want to meet you properly no doubt," Sybil whispered, a pained laugh escaping at the end.

"Yes," Margaret murmured, her mind far away. "We mustn't keep them waiting,"

The silence stirred around the room, making the atmosphere unbearable. Merilee started to whimper, the silence must have touched her too. Sybil was thankful for the distraction, going over to coo and cuddle her daughter. Tom stood, not looking once toward his mother and chuckled at his now snoring sister.

"My God! I bet she slept all the way here an'all!"

"Pretty much," Mrs Branson murmured. Merilee was screaming now, her tiny arms flailing. "She needs to be fed."

Sybil sighed.

We'll go down," Tom murmured, kissing his wife on the cheek before ushering his other out; the next task was waking his sister. Brigit was known for being a heavy sleeper. A shock awakening is exactly what she needs.

"Fecking hell!" she screeched and Tom tipped the back of the chair forward, making her fall out onto the floor. "Tom!"

"Language!"

Sybil laughed, Brigit launched herself at her brother, hitting him as he laughed, blocking most of her attacks. She began seething, spitting swears at him in Irish as she threw punches.

"Yeah, yeah," Tom jested, "Get it out of your system before we go downstairs. But if you want to fall asleep in front of the Dowager, on your head be it!"

* * *

The family had moved to the library, a more comfortable setting for introductions. Mrs Branson heartily apologised to the family for her open behaviour toward her son. Though some didn't agree with it, all of them agreed that he deserved it. Evening drinks were served promptly, though the travellers only took tea. The Dowager was still there, sat among the circle of gossip. Being anywhere else would be…well, it just wouldn't do.

"So, have you met Merilee?" Cora asked, smiling warmly.

"Yes, and oh my, isn't she beautiful?" Margaret answered. Cora nodded; Tom and Sybil both blushed slightly, both admiring their daughter to see the beauty that the others saw. "You'll have to lock down the door when she gets older lad,"

A light chuckle spread around the room, and conversation resumed. Matthew stopped his own as he felt his father in law bristle. He took a large swig of his drink, hoping that the strength of the drink will get him through the evening.

"What's the matter, Robert?" Matthew murmured, yet completely amused. "Is all of this 'normal' getting to you?"

A glare came Matthew's way, but he chuckled, the frosty stare completely brushed off him.

"She's very…brash," Robert sighed. "She has no sense of propriety at all yet she has all the manners of a Queen,"

"Robert, that's because she wasn't brought up that way. She was brought up like…like a normal person, to speak her mind…though I have to say I agree with you on manners. And the way she holds a conversation, it's much like Mary and the others."

"Hmm,"

"She reminds me of Sybil in a way,"

Robert rolled his eyes, "No wonder they all get on,"

A loud laugh attracted their attention; the three older ladies were unashamed in their amusement, not one of them covering their smiles.

"Your husband sounds rather rebellious," Violet smiled, still chuckling slightly.

"Hmm, he was." Margaret sighed, her laughs turning somewhat wistful. "Wherever did you meet him?"

Margaret froze; there was more in the old lady's tone than just sheer curiosity and conversation.

"We met in London,"

Violet nodded, continuing her questioning.

"How did you meet? Was it at a rally?"

"Mama!" Cora hissed, giving her a look of reprimand. "I'm sorry Margaret, I-"

"Oh don't worry, my husband did love politics; he was the sort to be involved,"

"Was?"

"He's dead, madam," Silence. The Dowager reached out her hand, something that made Cora's eyes almost pop, as she noticed Mrs Branson's pain. She shook it off as she noticed the comfort. "But no matter, life does play these dreadful tricks. I remember for weeks after I couldn't bring myself to do much. My children would have run wild if it weren't for my oldest ones."

The Dowager gasped, a little shocked and bewildered at the newcomers explanation.

"Your oldest ones? How many children do you have, do you mind my asking?"

Mrs Branson chuckled, "Only 6,"

"Heavens," Robert commented.

"Only!" Cora scoffed; she went to laugh in sheer disbelief afterward but caught her untoward manner, placing a hand over her mouth in guilt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Oh don't worry, many have done it. I know many women who have had more, trust me. 6 is enough,"

They all nodded in agreement, even though their experiences of motherhood were completely different.

"So where does Tom fit into your grand scale of 6?" Violet asked quietly, Tom and Sybil only sitting nearby. Violet smiled slightly when she noticed Sybil's eyes drooping; she was so desperate for bed. Merilee was cradled in her father's arms, held upright so to look around the room and all the people in it.

"Well, he has his older sister, his three younger ones, including Merilee and his older brother, whom I think you've met,"

"Kieran," The others said in unison.

"Yes, I thought you had," Mrs Branson groaned, shaking her head in disapproval.

Robert and Matthew had both turned away from the conversation at the mention of Kieran; neither of them liked him and though Tom knew this, his mother didn't. Robert decided to change the subject, before his anger got the better of him.

"So where are you staying for tonight?"

The silence returned; it was so great and so heavy that Sybil had awoken a little more and even little Merilee, who had been completely oblivious to the whole conversation, turned her head toward her grandfather. It may have just been a coincidence, but Robert wasn't convinced. Mrs Branson furrowed her brow, her words floundering slightly at the surprise question.

"Well-"

"Here of course," Cora interrupted. "Where would you have them go?"

Robert, in that moment swore that out of the corner of his eye, when his tiny granddaughter decided to smile, it was directly at him, at his humiliation and embarrassment. Both of his sons-in-laws were smirking, his eldest daughter too covering her mouth which no doubt held a smile.

He stuttered before a coherent sentence began, "Well, I don't know. I assumed that-"

"Well, you obviously assumed wrong Robert." Violet crowed.

"Yes Papa you have," Sybil snapped.

Robert was prepared to scold his daughter, a speech which had been told over and over before was all prepared when another stopped him.

"Now, now, Sybil. You shouldn't be rude to your father." Mrs Branson said, her gaze not angered but…disappointed. "It's not his fault that we turned up here unexpected,"

He watched his daughter sigh then reluctantly nod. She turned to him; sitting up a little straighter and remorse coated her expression.

"Sorry Papa, but…they are family," she pleaded. He was amazed, completely amazed. She would never apologise this easily with him and yet, just one sentence, said in such a calming manner that Robert himself felt guilty for his sins, convinced her.

Incredible, he thought.

"Sybil's right Papa, they are family," Mary too pleaded.

How can one woman have such an effect upon his daughters? He turned to Matthew, and then to Tom, the former completely out of his mind with confusion, the latter, the world didn't seem to have changed for him. It was like the norm. Maybe this was.

"Carson, would you be able to get some rooms ready for our guests? It seems my others-" Merilee gave a little gurgle, saying her piece in the discussion, "And my granddaughter have told me otherwise,"

Tom and Sybil both chuckled at Merilee, who was now snuggling into her father's neck, ready for bed.

"Of course Milord," Carson boomed.

Margaret stood, rather humbled by her in laws kindness.

"That's very kind of you,"

"Oh its no bother really, it seems my family won't have you staying elsewhere and I won't cause arguments."

Margaret nodded, smiling widely.

* * *

The majority of the household had retired to bed; Sybil, Tom and the Branson's first, the travellers were drooping in their seats and Merilee was fussing; she needed to sleep else she wouldn't go down later on in the night as she would be over tired then. The others were not far behind them; the excitement of the evening had tired them out, leaving Robert with his mother in the library, discussing and deliberating.

"So, what do you make of my in-laws?" he dared to ask. He poured himself a much stronger drink, taking a seat before his mother.

"I think she's very…very odd,"

Robert laughed once, taking a sip of his drink.

"She's a little more than odd…though- never mind,"

"No, no what is it?"

Robert sighed, his breath caught in his throat; he didn't know how to word it.

"Do you think…have we met her before, because I tell you she is oddly familiar. Maybe she just reminds me of Tom when he first came here with Sybil. I dint know, Mama, but there is something,"

"You're right, Robert. That woman is familiar. What did she say her name was?"

"Roquefort,"

"Right," she whispered. She smiled a tight smile, one that gave away nothing and everything. She looked over her shoulder, around the room, to the ceiling, anywhere but her son's glare.

"Mama," Robert warned, smirking. Mock innocence covered her face, her eyes rather wide and her smile gone. "Don't."

"What? I won't snoop, I'll just…investigate."

Robert sighed, shaking his head at his mother. He chuckled slightly, knowing that it was no use. She was now intent upon a mission. She wasn't going to stop.

* * *

"I hope that everything is…to your liking," Cora smiled. Brigit rolled her eyes, chuckling at her mothers awe and wonder. Her mouth was gaping slightly, her head leant back to get the full span of the large room. She daren't touch anything; she hadn't seen splendour on this scale for a long time.

"I would've slept on the floor and been comfortable, dear," Mrs Branson laughed. "Thank you, very much. This is far too kind,"

"Think nothing of it," Cora smiled, shaking her head in modesty. "Now, Tom and Sybil are just two doors down – the nursery is in between there-"

"You mean that the baby isn't in the room with them?"

Cora just froze. Mrs Branson had wheeled round to face her, her expression marked with shock and complete horror. Only noises, not even full words, came from Cora's mouth, unsure of how to handle the situation arising. Though Margaret had made a rocky first impression, one that had turned fairly positive, Cora still wasn't sure on how to diffuse this woman's anger; nothing seemed to work.

"Well they can hear her, it's just-"

"How on Earth does that work? What? Am I supposed to leave the poor babe crying in case Tom or Sybil doesn't hear, because you said that they can?"

"Now look here-!"

"No, no I won't have it." Mrs Branson ordered. She almost threw her bag down onto the floor, charging out of the room in her rage. The others went after her, though she didn't go far.

Mrs Branson ignored the calls of her in law and daughter. She burst thorugh the door, leaving it wide and strode over to the bassinet. Merilee was wide awake still, though her eyes had a slight droop. She was about to go off any second.

"Hello little one," Mrs Branson cooed. She picked her up, bouncing her gently and rubbing her back, soothing away any anxieties at being carried. "Brigit, move the bassinet next door,"

"Into your room Mam?" Brigit asked with uncertainty. She didn't want to anger her mother further, especially now since she held her granddaughter in her arms.

"No! You stupid girl! Into theirs!" she snapped. Margaret rolled her eyes at her daughter, who ducked her head away from her mothers harsh gaze, completely embarrassed and ashamed; she failed in keeping her calm.

"Mrs Branson!" Cora snapped. "I don't know where you - no, Brigit, leave the bassinet alone!"

Brigit took one step away from the crib, biting her lip and standing completely still as angering one meant making the other worse. Being in the middle wasn't a fun place to be. You get hurt stood in the middle.

"No Brigit, move it! The baby won't be sleeping in here alone-"

"Who are you to decide that? Tom and Sybil both made the decision to have their girl in here!" Cora argued, yet her voice wasn't harsh enough, nor half as strong as her rivalling grandmother. Her words had no impact, the woman didn't wince or move; she stood firm, baby in hand, her eyes slitting in anger.

"Because," Mrs Branson started calmly. "The life I lead is the one that Tom and Sybil lead. Granted, they won't get it here, how could they, but when they move back to Ireland or wherever they go – they won't live this privileged life! A nurse or nanny or whatever you have won't look after Merilee." She sighed, pausing slightly to gaze at her granddaughter. She kissed her small forehead before turning back to Cora, who looked completely defeated and resigned. She knew; Margaret knew that Cora had grasped that her words were true. As much as it pained her that her daughter would leave again, to live her own life and grow. She watched Cora sigh; she swore that she was about to cry. "That is why…she should be in her parent's room,"

Cora nodded, stepping back out of the way, letting the woman disturb the couple next door, no doubt they would receive a scolding. She noticed Brigit still stood awkwardly in the corner, looking anywhere but to her.

"Is this how she behaves?"

Brigit nodded, regretful.

"'Tis I'm afraid. She won't change for you neither."

* * *

**A/N: I really hope that this was worth writing! There is more, there will be the next morning and the downstairs scoop on her, which will be fun :P - Also sorry that she hit him - she needed to tell him off.**

**I cannot wait for the christmas special! Even though I love Call the Midwife, I'm afraid Downton shall be on my TV. Even though we already know the new characters, I actually wish that his mother was one of them! Considering that Tom will be alone at Downton, it would have been the perfect time to bring her in...**

**But I think that the new maid Edna (Myanna Buring's Character) will have a thing for Tom... I do, I honestly do! And because he's on his own at Downton... Do you see how the horrid pieces are fitting together? If it happens, God knows what's going to go down afterwards! The downton fandom will go insane! **

**Anway! I hope you liked it :D**

**Tell me what you think**

**GMJ xxxx**


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